


Ceiling Meowbeast

by Dragonnova



Series: Family Happens [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Slightly tipsy Psiioniic, TW: for talking about puke, This is stupid cute, alcohol consumption, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonnova/pseuds/Dragonnova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two bros sitting on a couch sharing a brew and discussing the proper way to raise kids, or at least the proper way to punk your genetic offspring when you're feeling particularly ornery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceiling Meowbeast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is a really short fic I quickly punched out because people were asking me how Psii could sneak up on Sollux without being seen or heard. (It's a situation from a comic I posted on my tumblr.) I decided to let Psii tell it, but then Dirk got him drunk.

You are The Psiioniic. You are currently sitting on the couch with a beer in your hands and your only human friend, Dirk Strider, sitting on the other end of said couch, staring at you like you just sprouted a third eye in the middle of your forehead.

“Ceiling meowbeast,” you repeated.

“Ceiling - cat?” Dirk questioned as that slender eyebrow arched up over the rim of his shades.

“Exactly.”

Correction. You are The-Very-Very-Very-Drunk Psiioniic, and you are questioning why you let Dirk talk you into drinking this swill for fun, because you are  _not_  having fun.

Also, you cannot believe you just said what you just said to him.

You weren't ever going to tell anyone about this.  The teasing of your little descendant while he's on bubblr was to be one of your secret joys in this new life.  Why you were sitting here telling Dirk about your shenanigans was beyond your thought processes.

“Apparently, you think ceiling cat is the answer to all questions, but what does it have to do with catching the brats doing things they shouldn't and teaching them the 'proper lessons young ones need in order to grow up right' as Jane so eloquently put it?” Dirk asked.

You feel your lip curling upwards, catching slightly on one of your fangs; you end up clamping that same fang down on your bottom lip to stifle the chuckle that tried to escape. You drag yourself up off the couch and onto your feet, groaning when something in your back popped and the room tilted at a funny angle. How long had you even been sitting there? It must be late.

“If you are really concerned about him doing or seeing something he should not -”

“ ** _Jane_**  is really concerned and flipping her muffins over  **them -** them as in Sollux and Dave both - doing and or seeing things they should not. Personally, I don't care what the kid does in the privacy of his own room.  _This_  apparently makes  _me_  a bad parent.”

“But you're his brother,” you state while you give your bottle of beer a little shake to make sure it is completely empty.

Was this the second or third bottle of beer Dirk had pushed into your hands this night?  It didn't really matter, anyway.  You chuck it in the direction of the kitchen and allow your psionics to catch it and deposit it in the recycle bin.

“Cheater,” Dirk muttered under his breath before clearing his throat. “Exactly - Thank you. Someone gets it."

"Mmmhmm," you hummed approval but to what you're not sure.

"Brothers are supposed to be cool and chill with stupid things like that. Kids make mistakes, they get into stuff they shouldn't. It's a part of growing up. I say let them make their own choices and learn the hard way sometimes. Sure, keep him out of the way of physical harm when possible! But teach him how to strife like a baddass when 'keeping out of the way' doesn't work. This is how to make a proper fist so you don't split your knuckles on some douchebag's jaw, little man. I donno-,” he said and then everything was silent for a few minutes.  He jiggled the beer in his hand and watched it foam and threaten to spill over before he finally sighed. “Sometimes I already feel like I'm coming on too strong by making him check in all the time, you know, stuff like that.  _Where you going? Who're you with? Why didn't you text me when you knew you'd be late!_ And various other unbecoming mother hen crap that probably makes him hate me now _._ ”

Dirk sat there for a minute and then sighed again, “Am I a bad pare- I mean brother?”

“I simply do not fully understand these human familial ties that impose various degrees of responsibility for shared blood,” You stated and then rubbed your forehead. Strangely, trying to wrap your thinkpan around the topic of human family traits really hurt right now.

“Uuuh, I think this is where I nod and pretend I know what you just said,” Dirk replied, then nodded and lifted his third drink of the night back to his lips.

“You do what you can, or the best – he knows you shouldn't worry about being a hen,” You said and then feel your eyebrows draw together as you think about what you just said.  "T-that got away from me." 

"A bit, yea," Dirk said, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards just a fraction.

You find yourself standing in the middle of the living room for what feels like ages, staring blankly at the space between your feet. “My point - I had a point. What was my point?” That was probably not the most intelligent of sentences to come from your mouth either.

Why was your head starting to hurt already? You usually felt the headache after you had slept off the buzz. Ugh. On top of the blooming headache, you had taken all of two steps and it was already a chore to stay on your feet. Honestly, you really have started to hate these human soporifics.

“Ceiling cat,” Dirk said.

This jogged your memory back to the point you were going to make, but some nagging little voice in the back of your mind was telling you this wasn't the same point you were thinking of just a moment ago. You opted to ignore it. “Oh, yes. If you really must know what they're up to simply sneak up on them.”

“Dave has gotten used to my flash stepping. He also doesn't fall for the various traps I've set for him. Th' little snot is getting pretty skilled, so hey, maybe I  _am_  doing my job right.”

“Yes, and yes. But if you want to catch them off guard, they wouldn't expect you on the ceiling,” you pointed up watching Dirk tilt his head upwards.

“What?” Dirk snort laughed.

Rather than explain it, especially with the way your thinkpan seemed to be misfiring at the moment, you simply leaned back and allowed your psionics to catch you up. You hovered for a moment and then turned upside down in the air, stretching your right leg out and touching the tip of your shoe to the ceiling. You were able to make it look effortless as you planted both feet on the ceiling, crossed them, and then 'lowered' yourself into a sitting position.

Dirk's pointy shades slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his unusual but striking orange irises as he stared up at you. “Okay. For starters, CHEATING, I can't do the floaty psychic anti-gravity rays.”

“Sucks to be you,” you said with a smile, but winced at the way 'sucks' sounded more like 'thuckth'. You thought you had long since conquered this, but it seems that the human's beer loosens the impressive control you hold over your system.

“Okay, fine. The minor point of your cheating mind powers aside; s-so you just sit on the ceiling like a creeper and wait for Sollux to pull his porn out from under his mattress?”

“Of course not,” you said as you rested your elbow on your knee and cupped your chin in your hand. “He'd certainly catch on if I  _always_  sat and waited for him. I wait for him to feel comfortable and then I pick the lock with my psionics and just quietly float in when I’m feeling particularly ornery. Plus he does not have a mattress, he has a recuperacoon. It would be quite difficult to hide anything under it. So, I wait for him to get on the internet and pull up Bubblr where I can then catch him with something NSFW on his dashboard whether he looked it up or not, and then I proceeded to harass him for the lulz.”

There was a moment of silence that fell up on the room as you stared down at Dirk and he simply blinked back up at you. Then your human friend stood up and walked the short distance to his kitchen where you could hear the sound of his nearly full beer as it was being dumped down the sink. A second later came the glass 'clank' of the bottle hitting yours in the bin. When he emerged from the kitchen he stared up at you again with that stoic, nearly blank look still firmly in place.

“Something vexes thee?” That was from a movie wasn't it? Wow you must not be entirely with it if you've resorted to quoting obscure movie lines like that Egbert wriggler does.

“I drink too much.” Dirk snorted. “'Cause I seriously doubt what I just saw. I did not just see my only deadpan troll friend sitting on the ceiling while talking about punking his genetic offspring 'for the lulz'. That right there was the Budweiser fogging up my brain. You did not just say lulz.”

The laughter that burst forth from you sounded entirely too nasally to your own ears. You were about to contemplate how annoying the sound of your own laugh must be, but something suddenly misfired somewhere in your thinkpan and brought all your thought processes to a halt.

For just a split second you felt lost. You pinged your internal sensors and wondered why they didn't send back information about the conditions of life support, your current coordinates in the star system, and the status of your shields. Then your system just decided to shut down power until the maintenance crew could get off their lazy butts and fix whatever was wrong before you blew a hole in the cosmos. Wait - shutting down within reach of gravity's force is not good thing. Why couldn't you raise the shields? You really needed shields right about now.

Your psionics flickered, catching yourself just enough to twist so you weren't going to crash bow first to the surface, but all the control you had left was gone in a sudden burst of blue and red energy that flared and died within seconds. You managed to let out a startled chirp as you plummeted the short distance to the floor.

You landed dazed and confused in a heap of cushions and the smuppets that usually littered the Strider hive. You stared up at Dirk, blinking owlishly before glancing around the room.

“Did I just jump course?” You asked as you stared at your hand – wait, what? Yes, that is your hand, isn't it? You are  **not**  hooked into anything. Look, you can move your fingers; you're wiggling them right now. “Oh good, I have fingers that still work. How would I ever be able to survive without being able to do this?” You extend the middle finger and tuck the others down.

Dirk laughed and plunked down on the pile of couch cushions next to you; a smuppet squeaked underneath him and he shifted around until he pulled a little orange one out and held it in his lap. “You wouldn't be able to survive in  _this_  world without that turn signal, bro.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. The humor of the situation was quickly draining away and leaving behind a sickly cold feeling in the pit of your stomach. That was hideously embarrassing, the more you thought about what just happened the more humiliated you began to feel. You had let your senses slip, you allowed yourself to get intoxicated, this had brought on one of your battleship moments, and to top it all off your psionics had cut out on you because you simply could not control them in your soporific induced stupidity.

The cherry on the grubcake being that you let all this happen in front of Dirk who simply does not understand.

It was hard being a helmsman. It's  _still_  hard, and nobody understands.

The thing is you don't  _want_ him to understand. How could you be so stupid, he doesn't even know a fraction of your situation; this must seem so freakish and strange to hi-

A weight settled on your stomach, you opened your eyes and pulled your hand away from your face. You must have been trying to hide the humiliation written so plainly on your face, even your jaw ached from how hard you were clenching your teeth.

Dirk was lying there with his head pillowed on your middle, his lips drawn into a tight line as he squeezed the little orange smuppet; eliciting another squeak from the plush.

“I feel like crap, man. Don't ever let me drink that much again, I think I almost passed out over there. You're lucky I didn't puke all over you, I don't care if you were on the ceiling I could have done it and it wouldn't have been pretty. Next time we hang out we only have one. That's it one. No more. If I feel this crappy you must feel pretty nasty too what with you not being a drinker and all. I'm sorry. We will never speak of this day again. This never happened - none of it; new leaf and all that Charles Dickens hoo-ha. I'll change, cause it's my fault, you have permission to kick my ass up between my shoulder blades but – can it wait until later cause I don't think I can keep this down if you planted your pointy boot in my backside right now,” Dirk rambled at you before he tilted his head and looked up at you.

He wasn't as drunk as he was saying. You could see clarity in his eyes before he pushed his shades back up his nose.

“Just don't vomit on me and we'll call it even,” You said as you reached up and patted his head.

“Deal,” Dirk replied. “You'd probably puke back on me anyway,”

“Yes; Chain puker. That's me. How'd you know?”

“Sollux puked on Dave one time. It was horrible, man, they like chain puked on each other and then Terezi,  _ugh, man_  - she had to go and make this sniffing noise and say 'oooooh it smells like apples in here!' and that was it. Oh my freakin' sweet aunt Mary I did not know two boys could spew like that. It was so - can we change the subject I'm seriously getting triggered here.” Dirk groaned and you couldn't help the instinct to pat his head again.

“By the way, how did these cushions get here?” Your head was hurting, you felt ill and strangely sleepy, but that didn't change the fact that you were sitting on the ceiling one second and the next second you were crash landing on a soft pile. When exactly did Dirk have the time to pile this up to break your fall?

“Lil Cal has mad skills, yo,” Dirk said.

“Lil Cal is not in here,” You replied.

“Shut up, do not question Lil Cal. He is not to be questioned.” Dirk flung his right arm back and smacked your chest, a little harder than he probably meant to.

You let out a chirrup that morphed into a groaned profanity, but instead of slapping the human off, you ended up lacing your fingers with his and relaxing into the makeshift pile of smuppets and cushions.

 ~

You woke up some time later to stare up at the ceiling. Sollux was silently sitting up there, the faint shimmering energy of his psionics glowing around his form; holding him up as he stared right back down at you. He had this toothy grin on his smug face and a digital camera in his hands. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and a curse was about to rip its way past your lips, but it was too late to do anything. The boy laughed and shot away from his resting place like a scalded cat.

Hopy shiz. You could hear the Strider wriggler laughing from the hallway too.

“I have a feeling-” Dirk's voice came out like a tired still half asleep groan, “that's going on Bubblr under, uh, what -”

“Pale porn, yes, yes it is,” you said.

“Be proud. Our brats are learning quickly and from the best,” Dirk replied and then yawned.

“I am,” you stated before tilting your head back and glaring at the open door. “But I'll get him for this.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The movie Psii quoted was Robin Hood, the one with Kevin Costner. Also, I want to thank gB for letting me bounce a bunch of ideas off of her for such a silly little fic. As well as helping me out by working out a bit of the dialogue. Best Moirail ever!


End file.
